


WCGW? (What Could Go Wrong?)

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ALL CHAPTERS WITH SUCH MENTIONS WILL HAVE TRIGGER WARNINGS, Autisitic character, Bromance, Genderfluid Character, Keith is a babe, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, Lance doesnt know how to deal, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of PTSD and or anxiety attacks, big bro shi-ro, body image issues, boners at unfortunate times, highschool!au, hunk is so good to Lance, i apologize in adavance for typos, klance, shiro needs rest idk why i dragged him here, unnecessary drama and bad jokes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 16:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12868098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Now Lance might be just another lame, sexually frustrated teenage boy, but this is just unfair.





	1. Numero 0.5

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story on Ao3!  
> Not quite sure where the hell this is going but oh well.  
> This isn't much of a real chapter, more like just an extended summery whoops. 
> 
> All criticism is welcome!  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance might be just another lame, sexually frustrated teenaged boy, but this is just unfair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Lao' here with your daily PSA; 
> 
> -this is my first story on Ao3!  
> On that note everyone is welcome to leave their critisisms in the comments (pls be gentle my dudes i have the confidence of approximately one and a half pieces of lint, thanks)
> 
> -Lance will be speaking spanish!  
> Im originally from argentina amd have lived in Canada my whole life, thus there will probably be some canadianisms and argentinisms because that's what I know best and is most authentic for me to write. So keep in mind that if you're, lets say Colombian, and something doesn't make total sense or you see a word and you're legit like "what the fridge is she saying" it's just Argentine Spanish being weird and different from most Latino america Spanish and i DEEPLY APOLOGIZE!!!
> 
> -all your support, commenting, sharing, and kudos are greatly appreciated! Thanks thanks thanks 
> 
>  
> 
> Btw this is more of just an extended summary and not quite a full chapter my bad, i just want to see how this does first before moving forward.

Now Lance might be just another lame, sexually frustrated teenage boy, but this is just unfair.

Let's get something straight _(no pun intended)_ , Lance doesn't exactly keep his sexuality a secret, and he knows for a fact that Keith isn't quite enforcing his whole 'closet business' considering all the Pride pictures he posted on Instagram a couple months ago, so he's about 96 percent sure that Keith is doing all this on purpose. And you know what? Lance is fucking tired of his shit.

It's the little things really. Leaning back casually in his desk, snapping his uncharacteristically bright pink bubble gum at a volume that always only seems to attract Lances attention to Keith's pretty pink mouth, puckered up into an 'o' shape to blow yet another bubble. Hopping in the showers after gym with a model-like toss of his hand as he discards his clothes-although the thought of Keith's bare ass might be a contributing factor. That squinty-eye thing he does when he's skeptical or doesn't understand something in class. The face he makes when a teacher tells him off for being late or for correcting them during a lesson. His voice, an addictive, slightly raspy, dark lilt that has you leaning in a little closer to what he's saying. Even if it's something lame like "can I borrow a pencil" or "what time is it"

Every aspect of Keith from the way he runs his fingers through his jet black hair to the way he stands is alluring, and enough to make Lance think that maybe Keith was trying to send a message. But with Lance's luck, that message would be just another misinterpretation, and he'd show up buck naked in Keith's bedroom, with rose petals scattered around his body; thus landing himself in the midst of a restraining order. And as much as Keith turns him on, a lawsuit would equally make him want to cut his dick right off. Balls and all.

So, for now, Lance is reduced to pining. Repressing hard-ons in the most unfortunate of moments. Gazing at this ethereal sex-god-like loser as he teases and flaunts himself and his sensuality all over the place for Lance to see. A completely unfair situation that Lance will do anything to get out of. (Literally anything, suggestions would be greatly appreciated)

And so, because of this unfortunate turn of events, like all utterly horrible story-starters, Lance devices a plan.

Of course it's nothing less than genius _(idiotic)_  
foolproof (entirely _impossible)_  
and sure fire to fix his problem _(HA!)_

But, yet again, it is because of these hard based facts that Lance has relied so very much on, that he's landed himself where he is now.

But as Lance had said rightly said, shit eating grin spread wide across his face despite Hunk's look of pure, innocent mortal terror;

"Would could possibly go wrong?"


	2. and the award for worst sibling goes to...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whoop this isn't a full chapter i just felt like i had to post something because i've been off the grid, I got rid of my social media so i haven't really been in contact with anyone but i'm back on ao3 and here I am with a little sneak preview of sorts because I'm lazy and never get anything done.

Lance's day starts with a scream.

No, it does not begin with birds singing, or the smell of bacon wafting in and waking him with the gentle caress of cooked ham, no warm sunshine, or tender words from someone he loves prompting him out of sleep, in fact-- it _smells_ like someone found and coincidentally _burnt_ the sweet smelling bacon that Lance had thought he’d hidden well in the corner of the fridge behind the milk jug, it _sounds_ like it’s pouring outside, and whatever Lorenzo, his younger brother is mumbling about in his half asleep state below him in the lower bunk of their bedroom, isn’t appropriate for all ages, so Lance is just gonna mute _that_ the fuck out.

Yet again, _Scream_ does not mean something exciting, or a small, pleasantly surprised sort of yelp, this is a straight up blood curdling, shriek, that resounds through his skull and effectively wakes him up and out of his deep sleep exactly one minute before the alarm on his phone is supposed to go off. Great.

If you were Lance, you might be a little annoyed that you were woken up a little earlier then expected, but it's no huge deal, right? Just another blip in the radar of any other day. But for Lance it is anything but.

The week before had been a train wreck and a half, wrestling five different deadlines for different projects, a massive breakout of pimples and other forms of acne on his forehead despite his rigorous skin routine, his phone confiscated in-class not once, but _twice_ , and a bright red, shiny ‘F’ handed to him during his last period class on Friday. Lance spent the weekend trying to relax, study, rejuvenate and most importantly, exfoliate, while he could, but all of the above had resulted in being completely and utterly impossible with his family around. So, amongst the chaos, Lance had reluctantly settled Sunday night for an episode of Bob's Burgers, a solid hour of physics homework, ate a whole bag of frozen berries with ice cream, before using a dollar store face mask --that must have been a _Reyes_ gift from three years ago at least reflecting on how crinkly the package was--and called it a night. So, waking up to his sister screaming at the top of her lungs wasn't the most fun thing that could happen after yet another sleepless night with his head relentlessly shriveling into itself.

Yeah. Lance is out for blood.

_“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill her”_

Ignoring his brother's protests and groans of "Don't make it worse Lance, _God"_ he shot up from his bed, ripping the soft covers he was peacefully curled up in just moments ago off his body with a practiced dramatic flourish. He leapt from his bunk rescuing a ratty t-shirt from his desk chair and proceeded in storming down the stairs to the kitchen, where the culprit of said scream, would most likely be eating Lucky Charms

“ _Maria Amparo Teresa_ I swear to whatever God there is out there I’m gonna fucking _kill_ you!” Lance shrieks, skidding around the corner on the slick kitchen tiles with sock padded feet, but soon came scrambling to come to a sudden halt when the stout, fury infused queen of the household was found to be already standing there like a sentinel, right next to where Maria Amparo Teresa herself was sitting primly, chewing smugly on a mouthful of Froot Loops.

Huh, not Lucky Charms. Go figure.

“ _Yo te puedo mostrar cualquier_ ‘Dios’ _que tu quieres pibe, antes de que hagas cualquier tontería a tu hermana_ ”

“Fuck.” He says, dumbly. Hands falling limply to his sides. His mother shuffles over and gives him a sharp smack on the backside of his head.

“ _Deja de putear_.”

“ _Buen dia, Ma_.” Lance mumbles, nowhere near an apology, but Cristina smiles warmly at her son anyway, laugh lines appearing as her eyes crinkle up and she brings Lance’s head down to press a kiss to his forehead. But just as fast as it came, the smile dropped and she glowered at her son.

“ _Pidele perdon a tu hermana_ -” she started, but Lance cut her off.

“But Ma! She was the one screaming at the top of her lungs while people are trying to sleep!” He cried, gesturing to the devil incarnate smirking behind his mother.

“I got milk on my favorite top you insensitive shithead!” Maria Amparo cried, smirk dropping as she gestured to a small dark stain on the bottom of her skin-tight top.

“ _Primero; dejen de hablar en inglés y de pelearse antes que les de vuelta los cabezas con los cachetazos que les voy a dar, segundo; Lance,  vos tendrias que ya estar preparado para el escuela, tercero; De ninguna manera te voy a dejar que salgas así de vestida a la calle María Amparo con, o sin mancha le leche._ ” Cristina said, ticking off her fingers as she went.

“ _Pero Má_ -”

“ _No, te pareces una prostituta con esa remera toda cortada”_

“Ma, we don't slut shame in this household.”

“Thank you Lance.” Maria sniffed, crossing her arms in their mother's direction

“ _NO MORE ENGLISH!_ ” Cristina yells, pure anger written across her features, and even after many years of lectures, whoopings with Cristina’s _chancla_ and misdeeds done by both siblings, the sight of their mother’s face boiling with pure anger still made shivers run down their spines.

“Shutting up now.” Lance whimpered with a small wince of discomfort under her ominous glare.

“ _Anda cambiarte la remera antes de que te revienta,_ ” Cristina growled in Marias direction without looking away from Lance, he barely had the time to watch Maria leave, turning his head only to see a blur of dark hair dart away and up the stairs. All the while, Cristina's fire hot gaze burned a gaping hole into his cheek.

“Now,” Cristina began, her accent thick as it always gets when she's in a shitty mood “I am going to say this in English so you can _really_ understand me,” Lance gulped, English being a notch higher up on the _Holy Shit How Mad Is Mom_ radar.

“You’ve already been trying your luck since the attitude issues last week, and the fail on your English essay, and now, you come down here, screaming your head off, you threaten your sister, swear in your mother's presence, and then, _seguis hasta desautorizar me_? Nu-uh, no way, not in _mi casa_.” Cristina's ‘r’s are rolling quick off her tongue, her consonants blurring behind large vowels, and because of this Lance knows she becoming more angry by the second.

 _“Peritencia.”_ She bites out, crossing her arms

“But ma-” Lance began, and holy _shit_ what that a mistake.

“And! Hunk isn't allowed to give you a ride to school today,” she added, nodding as if approving her own statement. Lance's eyes widened further.

“ _Mama!_ That is totally unfair-”

“Will you call him or should I?” She said, the threat sounding more like a promise than a question. At that, Lance sighed, hanging his head with a barely audible “ _si Mama_ ” before his mother could tear him a new one, or god forbid, take off her _chancla_ right then and there.

Lance begrudgingly shuffled over to their landline, tuning out his mother's swearing and grumbling as she fussed over the now burnt bacon that was sizzling on their stovetop. As the sound of the dial tone ringing when it began calling Hunks phone rang through his ear, Lance turned, a tired groan crawling up his throat when he spotted four pairs of eyes staring back at him from just behind the door frame. Maria Amparo with a baggy black hoodie thrown over her previous outfit that she would probably be taking off as soon as she hit school grounds, looked unapologetic and like she was trying to contain her laughter, Lorenzo with his over-gelled hair and wicked grin was looking not-so tired anymore, Catalina, the twelve year old with the least interest in looks in the family in her own baggy cargo shorts and pixie cut looked confused but nonetheless amused by Lance’s predicament, and finally, Luis, at four years old was already caught up in the family tradition of snooping but ended up blowing the rest of his siblings cover, by giggling wildly when Lance saw him. Lance leveled a steady glare at the three older siblings, who immediately dispersed from their hiding place and held off on the snickering until they were bustling about in the kitchen and they were sure Lance wasn't paying full attention to them anymore.

“Y’ello!” Lance’s expression stayed grim despite Hunk's cheery voice, his gaze steady on Luis who was still giggling to himself before he tripped over his own feet and landing on the carpet, squarely on his bum, he made full eye contact with Lance before bursting into tears, and Cristina materialized in front of the four year old, immediately cooing and shushing the little boy. Meanwhile, Lorenzo shouted out to no one in particular; "Who finished all the Lucky Charms!?"

“Hey.” Lance replied, voice monotone, still watching Cristina sweetly rub Luis’ head as his sobs dwindled to hiccups before disappearing completely.

Behind him, Lorenzo and Cata fought over the orange juice carton, while Maria Amparo called out points over the argument before taking the carton from the counter for herself and chugging it, to both of the other two kids’ anger.

“So, I’m guessing i shouldn't bother come to pick you up today, huh?” Said Hunks voice, a knowing sympathy lingering in his tone.

Lance sighed.

“Yep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are loads of translations for my non spanish speaking readers, so you can close your google translate window now and just read this ;)
> 
> “Yo te puedo mostrar cualquier ‘dios’ que tu quieres pibe, antes que hagas cualquier tontería a tu hermana” - “I can show you whatever God you want before you do anything stupid to you sister.”  
> “Deja de putear.” - “Stop swearing”  
> “Buen dia, Ma.” - “Good Morning Mom”  
> “Pedi le perdon a tu hermana-” - “Apologize to your sister-”  
> “Primero; dejen de hablar en inglés y de pelearse antes que les de vuelta los cabezas con los cachetazos que les voy a dar, segundo; Lance vos tendrias que ya estar preparado para el escuela, tercero; De ninguna manera te voy a dejar que salgas así de vestida a la calle María Amparo con, o sin mancha le leche.” - “Firstly; stop speaking in english and fighting the both of you, Second; Lance, you should already be ready for school, Thirdly; Maria Amparo, there is no way I’m letting you out of the house dressed like that, with or without milk stain.”  
> “Pero Má-” - “But mom-”  
> ‘No, te pareces una prostituta con esa remera toda cortada” “- “No, you look like a prostitute with that cut-up shirt”  
> “Anda cambiarte la remera antes de que te revienta,” - “Go get changed before I end you”  
> “seguis hasta desautorizar me?...mi casa.” - “then, you continue to question my authority me?...My house”  
> (10) “Peritencia.” - “Punishment/Grounded”
> 
> Other Terminology  
> Chancla - Basically a sandal or slipper most latina mothers (mostly in latin america not in europe) wear and when their kids start doing stupid shit they whoop them with it, like when you get spanked or get the belt, but it’s actually the most terrifying thing ever, essentially chancla = death.  
> Reyes - In Hispanic culture there is no Santa Claus, in most Hispanic cultures, it’s actually the three kings, the three rich dudes that came with frankincense, gold and myrrh to celebrate Jesus’ birth or whatever, anyway, at night, everyone in the house leaves their best shoes outside on their front porch or by the fireplace so the three kings can come and leave gifts for them in their shoes, and you leave out carrots and water for the camels they ride on, anyway, this happens about a week after Christmas or something of the sort, so that's why it’s called Reyes and not Christmas presents. I hope that all made sense?

**Author's Note:**

> Quick PSA: Once again, All criticism is welcome!  
> 


End file.
